


Shirt Tails

by LacePendragon



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, M/M, Marking, wearing each other's clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacePendragon/pseuds/LacePendragon
Summary: James comes home from work one night to find Qrow eagerly awaiting his return, wearing nothing but one of James' shirts.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Comments: 24
Kudos: 194





	Shirt Tails

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first smut fic I've written since 2017 for a lot of reasons I don't want to get in to.
> 
> Please be gentle.

It had been a long day at the office, made even longer by the unexpected Council meeting. While James was glad that Robyn was part of the Council, and that she wanted to be so proactive in fixing Atlas and Mantle’s major issues, he was also tired. He didn’t have the enthusiasm or energy she had from her youth.

Slumping into his shared home with Qrow, James rubbed a hand down his face and scratched at his beard. It was getting rough, and he needed to trim it.

He clicked on the lights and squinted against the brightness. The grit in his eyes protested the motion and he grimaced. The thermostat was on, meaning Qrow was home, but James didn’t see him, and of course, the lights had been off. Where was he? The bedroom, maybe. Qrow tended to nap in the evenings, if you let him. It was a long-standing thing that had started once Qrow had gone sober. Apparently, it helped him sleep at night, though James wasn’t sure how.

He didn’t question it. If it helped Qrow feel nice, it was worth not questioning. Not like it was hurting anyone. He was usually up when James got home, and if he wasn’t, it was always cute to wake him up. Qrow was a god damn octopus when you woke him up, latching onto James and snuggling into him.

James slipped off his boots and hung up his coat on the wall peg before turning and heading down the hallway, toward the bedroom. These weren’t his main quarters. He had an estate house that was maintained by a small staff, but he only ever went back to it to hold parties. Instead, he kept to the apartment he’d had before his promotions, when he was just a Specialist. It was cozier, and he’d spent a lot of time painting constellations on the ceilings. He didn’t want to paint over them to leave.

Almost to the bedroom, James paused as the doorknob spun and the door swung open, into the bedroom. Before he could start forward, Qrow strolled out of the room and leaned with one arm over his head and against the doorway, his other hand on his hip.

James swallowed, mouth dry and eyes wide.

“That’s my shirt,” said James, the words croaking out of him. And it was. Qrow was wearing one of James’ white dress shirts, and _only_ one of James’ dress shirts, buttoned up and too big for him. It hung partially off one shoulder and the tails dangled halfway to his knees.

Long enough that James couldn’t _quite_ see anything, but short enough that it was lewd in the best ways.

“Is it?” asked Qrow, a teasing tone to his voice. He tilted his head to one side, revealing the pale, unmarked skin of his neck. The shirt slid a little further off his shoulder. He crossed one leg over the other, one foot flat and only touching the toes of the other to the ground. “Why… I hadn’t noticed.”

James swallowed again and licked his dry lips with a drier tongue. He opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. _Shit._ Just. _Shit._ He had never seen Qrow look so good in white.

“Why… why are you wearing my shirt?” asked James. His voice was rough and low. Wrecked already and Qrow hadn’t even done anything. Heat crept up his cheeks and flushed down his chest, pooling low in his stomach. His gaze swept up and down Qrow. Pale skin, marks from his scars. His slender fingers curled against his hip and the door jamb. James wanted them curled around something else, right now.

He shifted, uncomfortably aware of the tightening in his pants.

Qrow grinned, sly and hungry. “You were gone _so_ long,” he said, drawing out the word. His teasing tone was only amplified by the sway of his hips. “I got lonely, James.” He batted his eyelashes. “So, so lonely.”

James let out a shaky breath through his nose. “Well,” he said, lamely, “I’m home now.”

Still grinning, Qrow swayed backward, half a step into the bedroom. “You are,” he agreed.

“Are you…” James managed to stumble forward two steps. He needed to get out of these pants. They were tight and holding in far too much heat. Enough that he thought he might boil. His skin felt pulled too tight across his hips, as if he was going to explode.

 _Damn_ , what was Qrow doing to him?

“Are you wearing _anything_ else?” asked James, raising his eyebrows. He meant for it to come out teasing, but instead it was breathless and hungry. A little desperate. He stumbled forward a few more steps and pivoted to face into the bedroom. Qrow danced backward, just out of reach, hips swaying and a cheeky smile on his face.

“Why don’t you come find out?”

James reached forward but Qrow stepped back again, his hips still swinging. James swallowed, watching Qrow’s hips. He wanted to mark them, teeth and tongue, until they were red and purple with hickies. Until Qrow was a writhing, begging mess beneath him. Then maybe he’d feel the way James did.

The warmth in James’ chest bloomed outward until his whole body was _hot._ He stepped forward, chest rising and falling with his deep, shaky breaths as he tried to get a hold of himself.

He didn’t want to get a hold of himself.

He was hard against the zipper of his dress pants and he’d never been more grateful for his metal dick, because that meant the zipper didn’t hurt as much as slightly grate.

Stepping forward, he backed Qrow up to their bed and grinned, hungry and crooked, as Qrow hit the bed with the backs of his legs and fell back onto it with a dull thump. The shirt – _his_ shirt, and that sent another thrill down James’ spine, hot and hungry – rode up around Qrow’s hips, revealing that it was, in fact, all he was wearing.

His gaze swept up Qrow, cheeks hot and mouth dry. He swallowed against the hunger in his veins. Breathed through his nose and smelled the scent of his and Qrow’s sweat, already forming from warmth and arousal. He let out a shuddering breath.

There was something undeniably _hot_ about the way Qrow’s erect cock peeked out from between James’ shirt tails. The skin a deep, uneven colour that was flushed in spots. Such a contrast against the white shirt and the paler colour of Qrow’s skin.

James crawled onto the bed, hands and knees touching the sheets. He moved slowly, ducking his head to breathe against the head of Qrow’s cock before trailing upward. Teeth worked to undo a button. He got it, chuckled against the newly exposed skin. Qrow undulated beneath him, letting out a breathy sigh. The noise rolled through James like thunder, brushing against the edges of his nerves and setting them alight. He fought a shiver.

There were few things as hot as the noises Qrow made when he got going. Few things that set James as quick to task. He forced himself to keep going, slow, up Qrow’s body, pausing as his collarbone. Qrow’s breathing was quicker now. James’ body hovered above his, his arms straining with holding himself so still. Yet, he didn’t want Qrow to know how affected he was, quite yet. His pants were a prison. His clothing, suffocating. The heat was intense, and he clenched his muscles at his hips to try and alleviate some of the pressure in his groin.

Nothing changed.

He should have expected that. Arousal never did what he wanted it to, and the nerves that led into his prosthetic dick were far too sensitive to respond to something so simple.

James lowered his mouth to Qrow’s collarbone, kissing and nipping his way across the prominent bone and up to Qrow’s shoulder, slowly moving toward his neck. Qrow gasped beneath him, body arching up to brush James’ chest and head swinging to one side to expose more of his neck.

The flush crept across Qrow’s cheeks and down his neck, splattering his collarbone with uneven patches of red. James focused in on one, nipping at the pulled taut skin. It was hot beneath his tongue and teeth, with little give. He lowered himself, body flush to Qrow’s, now. He felt Qrow’s hardness pressed against his hip and knew his own was pressed to Qrow’s thigh. The urge to rut against Qrow was strong, but James resisted. There was time. He had nowhere to be.

One mark on Qrow’s collarbone became two, then three. As the marks spread, so did the possessive thrill James felt.

Qrow keened beneath him, fingers tangling and pulling at James’ hair hard enough to hurt. He winced at the tug but didn’t stop Qrow. It grounded him. Kept him focused on his task.

“Enjoying yourself?” murmured James against his skin.

Qrow panted. “Yeah,” he managed. “ _Fuck_ yeah. You gonna do anything but turn me into a fucking crime scene?”

James chuckled against Qrow’s skin and pulled back, sitting up. Qrow pouted at him, propping himself up on his elbows. He was right, James thought, Qrow _did_ look a bit like a crime scene. The purple and red bruises scattered across his collarbone and neck, blotches mixed with his uneven flush that left him looking a bit like a bruised fruit.

One James wanted to suck the juice from, so to speak.

“Funny, how quickly things change,” said James, drily. He reached for his belts and started undoing them, tossing the rig to the floor. He slipped off the bed to set his holsters down, empty, but it was a habit. Qrow lifted higher up, watching him with hooded eyes and parted lips. His gaze swept up, then down, then up again. Searching, for what, James could only guess, but the hunger was there. It broke a sweat across James’ forehead and left his stomach tight against the unending heat that pooled low within it.

“You gonna take that off?” asked Qrow.

“Take what off?” asked James, raising an eyebrow.

Qrow watched him with flushed cheeks and blown wide pupils. He drew his lower lip inward, dragging it between his teeth and working at it until James thought it might tear.

And oh, James wanted to rip his clothes from his body and clamber back onto Qrow and remap every inch of him. He knew every spot, every scar, every nook and cranny of Qrow’s body, but that never stopped him from wanting to relearn them over, and over, and over. Whether they’d been apart for a day or a year.

“Everything,” said Qrow. “Seems fair.”

James eyed Qrow, debauched and ruffled, the shirt he wore – _his_ shirt, James kept repeating, because oh, was that just perfect – rucked up on his stomach, far enough now that Qrow was displayed from the hips down for James.

“Perhaps,” agreed James. He undid his belt, slow, deliberate, holding it wide and eyeing Qrow as Qrow’s throat bobbed from his audible swallow. James grinned, hungry and crooked, teeth on display and his eyes predatory. A fact he only knew from the look in Qrow’s, which screamed _prey_ in all the best ways.

Belt, then pants, both hitting the floor. Socks toed off. He undid his tie and dropped it on the end of the bed – just in case – and then undid his vest, tossed it, and undid the buttons of his dress shirt. He got halfway down before Qrow lost his patience. He shoved himself off his elbows, up, and crawled across the bed, coming up on his knees. Reaching out, Qrow caught James by his lapels and yanked him into a bruising kiss.

James stumbled, his open mouth meeting Qrow’s wet one. He leaned, planted a hand on the bed near Qrow’s hip, and chuckled into his mouth. Qrow made a noise of protest. He wrapped his spare arm around the back of James’ head and yanked him in further.

Their mouths moved together, wet and slick and hot. James moved his free hand to Qrow’s chest and pushed him back. Qrow fell and James followed, Qrow’s arms still tight to him. His hands shot out and he caught himself, arms on either side of Qrow’s head, noses bumping and teeth clacking.

They pulled back and James laughed.

“Took you long enough,” said James.

Qrow shrugged. “I was trying something new.”

“Being a doormat?” asked James.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “C’mere,” he said, instead of replying. James shifted, going from leaning on his hands to leaning on his forearms. James chuckled and leaned in again, kissing Qrow with all he had. Qrow’s hands slid down his body as they kissed, undoing the rest of the buttons of James’ shirt. James smirked a little and slipped his tongue between Qrow’s lips just as he shifted and slipped his leg between Qrow’s, pushing up into Qrow’s obvious and strained erection.

Qrow gasped, mouth falling open for James to plunder. Qrow rock his hips, bearing down onto James’ leg, and James pressed back into him with vigor. His own erection pressed hard and impatient to the fabric of his boxer briefs, begging to be set free.

“C’mon,” mumbled Qrow, tugging his mouth away from James’. “Getting a little impatient down here.”

And James chuckled. Oh, did he want to draw that out. There were nights where impatience was Qrow’s worst enemy and James’ best friend. He could have stretched this out. Gotten the tie from the end of the bed and tied Qrow to the headboard. Seen how far he could drive him, considering Qrow had been gunning for James the moment he’d gotten home.

But no, that would be another night.

Tonight, he wanted Qrow. And he wanted him now.

James sat up enough to slide off his shirt, now that Qrow had unbuttoned it for him. He tugged off his undershirt, right after, and attacked the buttons on Qrow’s – _his_ – shirt. Qrow wriggled, trying to help, but their hands kept bumping each other and fumbling buttons, and James cursed, tore the rest, and tugged Qrow up by the shirt to slide it off him.

Qrow laughed, slipping the shirt from his arms and letting it drop onto the bed, where James grabbed it and threw it off the bed. Then Qrow was winding his arms around James’ neck, dragging him in to kiss him again, and again, and again. They fell back into the sheets and the mattress that was a compromise between Qrow’s love of soft things and James’ need for a firmer mattress to protect his spine.

“You’re still wearing clothes,” Qrow pointed out, when James lifted his mouth from Qrow’s to attack his neck. James hummed against the skin of Qrow’s neck, sucking a bruise too high up for Qrow to hide. Then another, just below, scarcely pausing as he sucked bruise after bruise down Qrow’s body and toward a nipple.

Qrow whimpered. “Doesn’t seem fair.” And he sounded like he was going for snarky, but it came out breathless and needy, Qrow’s body arching under James as he spoke.

James’ mind was heady from the taste of Qrow’ skin and the arousal burning along his veins. He swallowed, pressing his forehead to Qrow’s chest to _breathe_ for a moment, and Qrow pet his hair.

“If you want me naked so badly,” said James. He swallowed, then lifted his head to look Qrow in the eye. “Do it yourself.”

Qrow grinned. Before James could properly react, Qrow wiggled down, out of sight, and James felt him slipping down the bed. He braced his arms against the mattress, forearms down, elbows in the sheets, fists clenched against the pillows, a half second before Qrow’s teeth grazed his flesh hip.

His mouth traced the line of James’ hip, down to his underwear, and then it slid lower, and lower, breath ghosting James’ erection through the fabric. James dropped his head, face hot, into the sheets, and breathed through his nose.

_Oh._

Qrow chuckled, so James must have moaned, even if he wasn’t aware of it. He mouthed at James’ dick through his underwear before his fingers slid up his thighs and to his hips, yanking them down in one smooth motion.

“ _Shit_ ,” breathed James, squeezing his eyes shut. The cold air against his metal cock sent a shiver up his spine.

James had little time to react, because Qrow’s breath was against his cock again, hot where the stagnant air of the room was cold.

Qrow’s tongue flattened against one side of his dick and James swore, body shaking. Qrow licked a long stripe up his cock, from the base all the way to the head. Each press of his tongue, each brush of his lips, sent heat racing through James.

One of Qrow’s hands squeezed his right hip, hard and grounding. James tangled his fingers in the sheets as Qrow’s head bobbed, unseen, up and down his cock.

It had never been James’ nature to be _loud_ during sex, but Qrow changed things. The delicious heat of his mouth, the press of his fingers in James’ hips – metal and flesh alike – the way Qrow’s hair brushed against his stomach. All of it drew James to noise. To the quiet moans that slipped from his lips, to the panting of his breath into the sheets, to the grunts when Qrow took him deeper into his mouth, until James felt his cock brush the back of Qrow’s throat.

Qrow groaned, the vibrations rocking through James and forcing a shaky breath from between his teeth. He forced himself to stay still, to shift the desperate urge to thrust downward into Qrow’s mouth – his hot, wet, _godly_ mouth – into the steady vibration of his entire body.

One hand slid from James’ hip to his ass, gripping the metal mesh that formed his right ass check until he gasped from the force of it. Qrow pushed at him, shoving him downward with that hand and deeper into his mouth.

James blinked his eyes open and let out another shaky breath. “You sure?” he got out, voice low and rough.

Qrow groaned around his cock, still not pulling back. His hand groped his ass with vigor, massaging the prosthetic until James shivered.

Well, let it never be said that Qrow wasn’t forward.

James gave in, letting his hips roll forward into Qrow. Slow, at first, then when Qrow grunted in annoyance, he let himself pick up the pace, fucking into Qrow’s mouth. James gasped, burying his face back in the sheets. His fingers twisted them until he feared they’d tear. But he couldn’t focus on that. All he could focus on was Qrow’s mouth, and Qrow’s hands, and the grip on his hip on and on his ass. The way Qrow swallowed him down like it was nothing. The way his moans rolled through James and coated him like a second skin.

He cried out, body shuddering as he slipped closer and closer to orgasm. God, just a little more, just a little—

He forced himself to stop, planting his hands and pushing himself off of Qrow. His cock slipped from Qrow’s mouth with a wet pop. He stared down at the sweaty sheets, then closed his eyes to focus on anything other than how much he _ached._

“James?” Qrow’s voice was hoarse and torn, barely there. James bit the inside of his cheek. He felt the shift of the bed as Qrow wriggled back up to him. A hand on his cheek. “You good?”

James opened his eyes and nodded, exhaling slowly. “Great,” he replied. And oh, was that a sight. Qrow, his cheeks bright red, his lips swollen, his pupils blown wide. Spit coating his chin and lips and smearing onto one cheek. His hair askew.

“You stopped me,” said Qrow. He cleared his throat, but it seemed to do little to fix his voice. Not that James was complaining.

“I am far too worn out to go for multiple rounds, tonight,” said James. He leaned in and ghosted his teeth along the shell of Qrow’s ear. “So, I’d rather not finish yet, if it’s all the same to you.”

Qrow shivered beneath him. He leaned his head as James dragged his mouth downward, teeth grazing the delicate skin of Qrow’s neck as he went.

“Mm, sounds good to me,” breathed Qrow.

James shifted up to yank his underwear the rest of the way off, from where it had been trapped at his knees, and tossed it into the room. He’d find it later. Or not, he didn’t care.

He settled between Qrow’s legs, nudging them apart as he went. Qrow grinned, obliging by lifting one so James could hook it over his shoulder. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Qrow’s inner thigh, then another one, then another one, until his nose brushed the underside of Qrow’s leaking cock.

“Someone’s eager,” murmured James against Qrow’s skin. He looked up and met Qrow’s gaze, who stared back at him with unabashed hunger.

“Can you blame me?” he replied. The roughness of his voice went straight to James’ groin. He swallowed.

He lifted his right hand, running his fingers up the inside of Qrow’s thigh. He’d get the lube in a second. For now, he wanted to tease Qrow a bit with the possibility.

Fingers slid higher, higher, and he ran them inward, intending to pinch Qrow’s ass. But there was a look in Qrow’s eyes that had him pause, for just a second. A look that was coy and curious all at once. James furrowed his brow, watching Qrow as his hand made its trek toward Qrow’s hole and…

_Oh._

His fingers came away wet and slick.

He stared at them, then looked back at Qrow, who was blushing around his toothy grin.

“You’re already prepped,” breathed James.

Qrow swallowed, visibly. He licked his lips. “I got impatient. Couldn’t wait for you,” he said.

And oh, that _did_ things to James. The image of Qrow, spread out on this bed, fingering himself in James’ shirt while he waited for James to come home was intoxicating. James wondered how he’d done it. Would he have been on his back? On his knees with his ass in the air?

Were there toys involved?

The idea had so many questions attached, and for each one, James felt his hunger, his curiosity, and his _want_ grow.

“Jim?” Qrow’s voice was hoarse and unsure. “You good?”

James surged forward, dropping Qrow’s leg to flatten himself against Qrow. He gripped Qrow’s hair with one hand and slipped the other between them, running his metal fingers down Qrow’s stomach until he found his leaking cock.

Qrow gasped into James’ mouth and James slipped his tongue between parted lips, licking his way into Qrow’s mouth and tracing his teeth with his tongue. A groan passed between them, but James didn’t know whose it was. His dick was trapped against Qrow’s thigh, aching with every twitch of James’ hips.

His fingers tugged at Qrow’s length, thumb sliding across the head as he stroked Qrow with the same manic energy he kissed the man with.

Qrow’s hands came up, gripping James’ shoulders. Nails dug into both, but they’d only leave marks on the left. James didn’t care. He suddenly wanted Qrow’s marks upon him just as he wanted his marks upon Qrow.

“Jim.” James kept kissing Qrow. When Qrow’s mouth pulled from his, he moved to Qrow’s cheeks, his jaw, his chin, his neck. Wet, open-mouthed kisses that let his taste every inch of Qrow as he moved.

 _“James.”_ The desperation with which Qrow said his name got James’ attention. He pulled back, staring at Qrow as he panted into the space between them. “You gonna fuck me or what?”

James grinned and pulled his hand from Qrow’s dick. At Qrow’s whine, he laughed, lightly, and dropped his forehead to Qrow’s shoulder.

“Next time,” breathed James, “I’m watching you prep yourself. That sounds _incredible._ ”

Qrow laughed, tangling his fingers into James’ hair and tugging until James lifted his head to look at Qrow. Qrow tugged harder until their mouths met in a sloppy, grinning kiss.

“Man, if it’s that easy to get you riled up, you should hear what I did in one of your greatcoats,” murmured Qrow, half of it against James’ mouth.

The image of Qrow spread out in one of his coats sent a thrill through James that settled at the base of his groin. He groaned, low and unashamed, body shuddering at the idea of Qrow wearing Atlas in such a way.

“Oh Brothers,” breathed James. He swallowed and forced himself to focus before he was tempted to rut against Qrow’s thigh like a teenager. “Later,” he said, a promise in his tone, “or else we’re never getting anywhere, tonight.”

Qrow grinned at him. “Well, I’m all ready for you.” He wiggled his hips and James lifted himself back up, one hand planted next to Qrow’s head as he moved. Qrow leaned his head and pressed a kiss to James’ metal wrist.

James smiled at him.

He shifted, getting one of Qrow’s legs around him, under his arm but as high as it went. Qrow dug his heel into his back.

“Come on, come on,” breathed Qrow. “Get in there.”

James frowned. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“James, I literally had a vibrator up my ass right before you got home.” He gestured to the towel in the corner. Huh, James hadn’t noticed that before. But _god_ , now that he did, it brought up so many images. Things James wanted to do, to see, next time they had a moment together. “I am _fine._ I am _ready._ ” He thrust his hips upward, cock bobbing in the air. “Now _fuck me._ ”

James hooked Qrow’s other leg up, leaned forward to brace himself in the sheets with one hand, and lined himself up with the other. Then, in a slow, smooth motion, he slipped into Qrow.

_Oh._

Qrow had prepped, and he’d prepped well. James slid in easily, pressing inward until their hips were firmly together. It was _intoxicating._ The tight heat of Qrow’s ass swallowed his cock like it was nothing. He took his hand and braced it on the other side of Qrow, both of them pining him in beautifully.

Qrow grinned up at him, his chest heaving and his cheeks ruddy. “That’s more like it,” he breathed.

James chuckled and rocked his hips, back, then forward. The low moan that slid out of Qrow was worth it.

There wasn’t enough self-control left in James to set a slow pace. Once he was certain that Qrow wasn’t going to break, he drew out and slammed in, setting a fast and hard pace with the sharp slap of his hips against Qrow’s.

If James wasn’t vocal, then Qrow was _very_ vocal. His moans lit up the room, echoing in the space as his fingers dug into James’ skin and prosthetics. He was going to be marked up his left side tomorrow.

_Good._

James’ arms shook as he thrust in and out of Qrow, Qrow’s own hips snapping up to try and meet his as he moved. The heat around his cock was making his vision unfocused and red-tinted. The pleasure pooling in his gut and curling his toes as his feet braced against the mattress. He shifted his position, trying to find _that_ spot, and grinned when Qrow threw back his head and shouted.

 _There_ , then. He focused in on it, brushing it as often as he could, until Qrow was a moaning mess beneath him.

He shifted again, right hip aching, just enough to relieve pressure and prolong the moment.

With his head bowed, their foreheads were almost brushing. Hair catching on the other’s as James moved. When James opened his eyes, Qrow grinned up at him, tangling his fingers in James’ hair and tugging him down to kiss him.

James couldn’t imagine being as flexible as Qrow. The way his body bent in any direction James pushed it. As if it was made for James’ hands to be upon it, his body to be above it, bearing down.

That thought drove him forward, hips pumping at that same fast pace, skin upon skin upon metal. He wasn’t going to last, not with the way Qrow tugged at his hair and moaned his name into the room. Not with the tight, all-consuming heat around his cock and the way Qrow’s heels dug into his back.

He shifted, pain be damned, to hit Qrow’s prostate again, rolling his hips until Qrow cried out and jerked upward. James grunted, pressing all of his focus into that spot as his own world started to fall to heat and ruin. He could barely focus on anything but the feel of Qrow beneath him, on the press of his hips, and on the noise Qrow was making. So damn _close._

But he couldn’t get a hand free to jerk Qrow off. He knew he’d lose his balance. Instead, he dropped his head near Qrow’s ear and slowed his pace long enough to grunt out, “Touch yourself.”

Qrow swore and tugged one hand free from James’ hair. He shoved it between the two of them – his fingers long and nimble and his nails catching James’ stomach – until he got it around his own cock.

Every rock of James’ body against Qrow’s sent Qrow’s knuckles skittering against James’ stomach.

Their bodies moved as one, everything blurring out of focus as James lost sight of everything but his own finish, just out of reach.

Qrow dug his fingers deeper into James’ scalp. James rolled his hips again, and again, and— _there._ His dry orgasm struck him hard, entire body shuddering and hips jerking with the force of it. He panted, head dropping into Qrow’s shoulder as it rolled through him.

With a whimper, Qrow tugged at his own cock, pined between them. James found the mind to lean to one side, reach between them, and jerk Qrow once, twice, and on the third jerk he cried out, orgasm rolling through him as he came across their stomachs.

They laid there for a minute, the only sound their harsh breathing as they came down from their high. James felt light, his head was fuzzy from the afterglow, and all he really wanted to do was cuddle into Qrow and sleep for the next twelve to sixteen hours.

“You know,” started Qrow, combing his fingers through James’ hair. James _really_ hoped it wasn’t the hand he’d probably come on. “If I knew wearing your clothes would get you _that_ riled up, I’d have done it months ago.”

James laughed, breathless and a little giddy, against Qrow’s shoulder. “You’re a _menace_ ,” he breathed. He pulled out of Qrow and rolled off, flopping onto his back on the bed, one arm thrown over his forehead.

“I am,” agreed Qrow. James heard tissues being pulled from the box on Qrow’s bedside table. He cracked open one eye and watched Qrow clean himself, then sucked in a breath when Qrow leaned over and did the same to him.

Qrow met his eye and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the centre of his stomach, where scar tissue, metal, and flesh all met.

“You love me anyway,” said Qrow, leaning back to toss the tissues into the garbage.

“I do,” agreed James, lifting his arm to beckon Qrow in. Qrow curled up next to him and Qrow drew him close, holding him in his arms. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“Good,” said Qrow.

“Next time, I want to see you in one of my coats,” said James.

Qrow grinned against James’ shoulder. “You sure? We might wreck it.”

James soothed his fingers through Qrow’s hair and hummed, letting his eyes close. How old was he, to be so tired after sex? “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Well then,” said Qrow, chuckling. “I’m game.” Then, “Are we gonna get back up and get dinner?”

“In a minute,” said James, voice distant. “Let’s stay like this for a bit.”

“Sure, James,” said Qrow. “Anything you want.”

They’d get up in a minute. For now, James just wanted to enjoy the afterglow, and maybe figure out how to salvage that shirt, if only so Qrow could keep wearing it.

It was a good look, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always loved and appreciated! Thanks for reading!


End file.
